The moment Rujie spat out that mouthful of blood, the prayer beads lit up.
The once dull wooden beads bloomed one after another with golden patterns.
Six golden rings cinched around his arms, shoulders, and back. Blood seeped from the tears in his kasaya, dripping onto the dharma platform.
Holding the Demon-Suppressing Bowl, Wuchen could no longer suppress the smile on his face.
"Rujie, do you still intend to hold on?"
The Sanskrit chants within the Demon-Suppressing Bowl grew heavier.
The runes around the dharma platform flickered incessantly from the tremors. Several elderly monks from the Heavenly Sound Temple went pale and tried to step forward, only to be stopped by a raised hand from that Half-Step True Lord of the Great Thunder Sound Temple.
"Before the dharma debate has determined a victor, no one may interfere."
The old monk Huiming was so furious that his beard trembled wildly.
"You're using a Quasi-Immortal Artifact to crush others, and you still have the nerve to call this a dharma debate?"
An elder of the Great Thunder Sound Temple spoke blandly.
"Dharma artifacts are also part of cultivation. If the Heavenly Sound Temple has none, then admit defeat."
The disciples of the Heavenly Sound Temple felt their chests tighten.
Those words were utterly shameless.
Yet the Demon-Suppressing Bowl hung above the dharma platform, its Buddhist light pressing Rujie down until he could not even straighten his back.
Wuchen took two steps forward.
"The Buddhist Son of the Heavenly Sound Temple is nothing special."
"Weren't you quite the talker during the scripture debate just now?"
"Why have you stopped speaking now?"
A few soft laughs came from the Great Thunder Sound Temple's side.
"Senior Brother Wuchen, leave him a little dignity."
"The Heavenly Sound Temple has declined, after all. It's only natural for